The reconvened Commission hearing loomed like a guillotine blade hanging over the penthouse. Aria moved through the morning preparations with mechanical precision, her mind a whirlwind of doubt and resolve. She chose a tailored black power suit that Sofia had recommended—sharp, unyielding, a far cry from the trembling girl who once hid behind Dante’s shadow. The fabric hugged her petite frame, accentuating the lean muscle she had earned through months of brutal training. In the mirror, she practiced the steady gaze she would need. No tears. No hesitation. Only the queen she was forging.
Dante watched her from the doorway, his tall, muscular form filling the space in a perfectly cut charcoal suit. His dark wavy hair was styled back, and those piercing gray eyes tracked her every movement w
